Three days had passed.
A vast horde of seven to eight thousand Beastmen was making its way towards the Silvermane Tribe. The ground trembled under their marching feet, and a cloud of dust rose on the horizon, signaling their approach.
At the gates of the Silvermane Tribe, a small group waited in anticipation. Logan, the tribe's chieftain, stood tall alongside his uncle Lot. Flanking them were two others, the foxman Art and the towering wolfman Boone. These two had arrived ahead of the approaching Beastmen force, representatives of the slave-trading faction they worked for.
Art stepped forward with a grin, his sharp eyes glinting with the confidence of a man delivering on a lucrative deal. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled piece of animal skin. "Your Excellency Chief," Art began, his voice smooth and persuasive. "This is the manifest for the slaves. You may want to review it.
When they arrive, you can have your men confirm the numbers." He handed the skin to Logan with a flourish.
Logan, ever the cautious leader, accepted the document and unfurled it. He and Begon poured over the list. It detailed a staggering 6,400 slaves in total. Over 3,600 were adult warriors, hardened by years of battle. Another 2,400 were female Beastmen, and the remainder consisted of more than 300 children. Curiously, not a single elderly Beastmen was listed.
Wolf Beastmen made up 70% of the slaves, while the rest were a mix of boarmen, minotaurs, and the occasional black bear man.
After scrutinizing the list, Logan nodded approvingly. "Impressive quality," he remarked, his voice devoid of emotion but clearly satisfied.
Art's smile widened. "Haha, rest assured, Your Excellency. We aim for long-term cooperation. Deception would only harm our business. We bring nothing but the best."
Logan acknowledged his words with a brief nod but remained silent.
Soon after, the thundering footsteps of the incoming horde grew louder. Logan and Begon exchanged a glance as the massive procession came into view. They were not easily impressed, but this sight gave even them pause. The escort team, over a thousand strong, was no ragtag group. They were armed to the teeth, outfitted in matching armor, and wielding high-quality weapons.
These slave hunters resembled a trained military unit more than the usual disorganized rabble.
Logan couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "These slave owners are something else... investing so heavily in their forces. Their equipment is better than most of our neighboring tribes." He shook his head in quiet admiration. It was little wonder Art and his crew were so successful. Read latest stories on mvl
Begon, ever the practical one, dispatched a group to check the numbers. After a thorough count, the tally matched the animal skin manifest exactly. The deal was done.
As Logan observed the Beastmen training, his mind wandered over the massive growth his tribe had seen. The Silvermane Tribe had become a small empire, sprawling across a vast area. The layout of the tribe reflected this growth, each section carefully planned for the future.
At the center stood the Chieftain's Hall, the heart of the tribe's leadership. To the south and west, the land was dedicated to agriculture, with fields, gardens, and orchards stretching as far as the eye could see. This fertile land had been expanded under Logan' leadership, anticipating future needs as the tribe's population continued to rise.
A dock town was also under construction in the west, a key step in turning the Silvermane Tribe into a true power in the region.
The southeast housed the tribe's animal stables, while the military camp dominated the east. The north had been reserved for residential expansion, with new tribal homes sprouting up almost daily. The areas surrounding the Chieftain's Hall had been cleared of older buildings to make way for critical infrastructure, such as the brewery, the forge, and various workshops.
The tribe's administrative offices were also located nearby, forming a bustling center of activity.
In the middle of it all, Logan had reserved a vast open space, left intentionally undeveloped for future projects. This included the nearly completed Temple of Warriors, a towering structure that would serve as a focal point for the tribe's spiritual and military life. Logan had even more temples in mind for the future, envisioning a grand religious complex to match the tribe's expanding influence.
The Silvermane Tribe now spanned 500 to 600 square miles, a truly massive territory. From above, it resembled a living organism, constantly growing, evolving, and adapting to its new size and power.
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Just as Logan was lost in thought, an officer approached with a Wolf Beastman warrior at his side. The warrior bowed respectfully. "Master Chief, Lord Lot has sent a message."
Logan turned his attention to the warrior, recognizing him as one of the guards stationed outside the Beastmen Hall.
"My Lord Chief," the Wolf Beastman began, his tone formal and serious, "Lord Begon requests that you come to the conference hall immediately. He says there is an important guest."
Logan raised an eyebrow, surprised by the urgency. "A guest?" he repeated, glancing at his companions, Kro and Lots, who were equally puzzled. In all their time in the tribe, the term "guest" had never been used before in such a context.
"Did Lord Begon say who this guest is?" Logan inquired, his curiosity piqued.
The Wolf Beastman warrior shook his head. "I do not know, my lord. But I did see that the lady has arrived as well."
At this, Logan paused, the mystery deepening. The "lady" was not someone who appeared often, and her presence usually signaled something significant. Without further hesitation, Logan nodded, signaling his readiness to leave. He could feel the weight of importance in this unexpected visit, and whatever awaited him in the conference hall, he knew it was something that would demand his full attention.